bridget hey arnold

“I had the book, remember?” I said, wiping my face on the comforter. “And a good teacher…”“No, seriously. My husband can’t eat pussy worth shit. Doesn’t like it, doesn’t want to do it. You know just what to do.”

His wings were aching and threatening to snap, but he forced himself to his feet and returned to the sky. He took after Ingram, once again attacking him from behind. The two of them crashed atop the edge of the arena, overlooking the crowds. It was little more than a cement lip encircling the arena, offering some protection from the sun and the weather. The two got to their feet, both bruised and exhausted, with the spectators cheering as they spotted the combatants overhead.

If you want punishment for you and Cyrilo, tell me this, what will it accomplish? What’s done is done. The dead are already in the ground, and no amount of flagellation will bring them back. Whether you receive punishment or not, nothing changes. None of it matters. It’s all pointless. If you were a violent criminal, unrepentant, or even pleased with the carnage Bella wrought, then for the objective sake of society, I would say you should be locked away or executed. However, that isn’t you. I see your guilt and pain, so it’s not like there is any grand lesson for you to learn by being punished. If you think sitting in the dungeon will make you feel better, relieve you of your guilt, and bless you with a clean conscience, then the punishment is for your sake, not anyone else’s.”